


star

by broadwaybosom (peachy_mattel)



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Black Lives Matter, Death, F/F, F/M, M/M, Music, Other, R&B, Racism, Rap, This is triggering, aaron is so friggin sassy like dang, alex is shy until u get on his nerves, based off of fox's star, i love music and i love my culture ok, laf is ftm, okay in this fic alex acts more like lin than ham himself, peggy is snazzy sassy, theodosia is pro-black lives matter, theres druggie john
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-23
Updated: 2017-02-06
Packaged: 2018-09-19 11:18:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9437942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peachy_mattel/pseuds/broadwaybosom
Summary: In which Alex wants to sing, not write.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I have so much motivation for this, like woah (like woah) 
> 
> Anyways, this is updated more on Wattpad than on here. My Wattpad account is @jankjank2006 (as well as everything else except my tumblr and kik)
> 
> Anyways,,,,enjoy!

Alex’s hands clutched the paper, causing little creases to be formed in the faded pigment. His duffle bag was slung over his shoulder and his cased guitar was on the porch next to him. He let out a deep sigh before knocking on the door with his free hand, cringing at the sonorous echo that resounded throughout the surprisingly quiet city. 

After a few moments, a man with a head full of frizzy hair opened to door to greet Alex. He yawned, showing off perfect teeth before speaking in a slightly accented voice. 

"The salon is next door," he said, monotonously. "And we are closed on Sundays. Everyone is at church." 

Alex smiled crookedly, his eyebrows furrowing. 

"I-I-I’m not here for a hair-ha-haircut," he spoke, his voice raspy. "I’m here to see George Washington." 

"Shame," said the man, fluffing his own dark hair. "You are in need of a trim. Oh, and George is not here right now. He is at church." 

"Well, uh," Alex bit his lip in thought. "Mister Washington is my godfather." 

He passed the frizzy-haired man the paper, only to have him scoff in his face. 

"Please," said the man, crossing his arms. "Too many big words, too many at once. I am an immigrant with little American education. I take your word for it. Come, come. You sit on the couch until George is back." 

The man moved out of the doorway, letting Alex through. He led the creole trough the foyer and into a small den, the coffee table cluttered with 'ebony' and 'essence' magazines as well as 'black hair weekly'. Alex sat his stuff down beside the couch, stretching before sitting down. The frizzy haired man cocked a brow. 

"Never caught your name," he spoke. "I’m Gilbert du Lafayette." 

"Alexander Hamilton." 

Gilbert and Alex conversed in French for a good hour while they waited for George to arrive. They spoke about their liberal views of politics, food, and immigration in general. Alex was feeling as if he had a close friend in Gilbert already, even if they had just met. 

When they heard the door open, along with some feminine giggles and whispers, Gilbert grabbed Alex’s hand to lead him to the foyer. There, they were greeted with three women--no, three girls and a tall man. They were all wearing their "Sunday clothes", the girls wearing colorful, slightly form fitting dresses, and the man--presumed to be George--wore a suit and tie. 

The quartet eyed Alex before Gilbert spoke, his voice proud and clear. 

"George, this is Alexander. He is your godson, according to some papers." 

George looked taken aback, and the three girls behind him burst out in whispers. Suddenly, Alex felt as if he should've brushed his hair or wore more presentable clothes. 

"Wait, wait...." George eyed Alex, scrutinizing his face. "You’re...Rachel and James Hamilton’s son, aren't you?" 

"Yes sir," Alex nodded timidly at the mention of his mother. He looked down at his scruffy converse, suddenly interested in the dirty toes of the shoes. 

Alex looked up, only to find George with a huge smile on his face. He stepped forward and enveloped Alex and a huge hug, which one could only describe as the epitome of Alex’s epiphany. This is what he craved for the past 18 years of his life--he wanted a real father and a real family. With George, he hopes that he has one. 

\---

The girls introduced themselves to Alex, along with Gilbert, at 'dinner' (in reality, it was only four o'clock, but who knew with these church people). They were the nieces of George, and their names were Eliza, angelica, and Peggy. They all captured Alex’s eyes, and every so often they looked his way and giggled to one another. Gilbert reintroduced himself as an exchange student who's staying with George for college. All of them work in the salon/barbershop George owned. 

"You have yet to meet Hercules," Gilbert muttered to him in French. "That man... gorgeous." 

Alex giggled at Gilbert's attitude towards this Hercules man as he picked at his food; a sup of yellow rice, steamed broccoli, and baked chicken. It was good, yes, but Alex didn't want to eat. 

I’m getting fat, he thought to himself as he took a small bite of the rice. 

Alex, however, was far from fat. Sure, he had love handles and a round face, but it just looked good on him. Besides, he was barely nearing 170 pounds. 

George must have noticed Alex’s discomfort, so he tried to create small talk amongst the table. 

"So, Alex," he began. "You’re eighteen, right?" 

The creole nodded, his dark hair falling into his eyes. 

"Are you still in school, or are you planning to go to college?" 

"I’m not in school anymore," Alex stated. "Although I’m planning on going to college next year." 

George nodded, going back to eating his peas and asking the girls how they felt about the lesson they had in young adult Sunday school, which just happened to be Alex’s favorite topic--homosexuality. 

"It was total bullshit," Peggy said, unfazed. 

"Margarita," George warned. "Language." 

"Sorry, uncle," Peggy rolled her eyes and shifted her gaze. 

"Uncle George," Eliza spoke elegantly. "They spoke about Gilbert and Hercules, saying some bad things about them. I was meaning to tell you, but it slipped my mind." 

"They said what?" Gilbert raised his eyebrows, his gaze narrowing and shifting to George. 

"Um," angelica began. "They said your behavior was sinful and god made you a woman, and you should've stayed a woman. They said you were vandalizing god's creation." 

Gilbert looked at George intensely before laughing loudly--a snort, almost. 

"Idiots," he chuckled, scaring everyone at the table. "I am accepted by church back in France but here, ministers and bishops are not to date with homosexuality and transgender troubles." 

Alex mumbled out an "amen", which made the girls giggle and George chuckle heartily.

"Quiet and a sense of humor?" George smiled. "I’m gonna enjoy having you around."

**Author's Note:**

> Woahh this is some of the most I've written for recreation,,,,,oh well. 
> 
> The song for this chapter is "letter to my freshman self" by atlas.


End file.
